Breakthroughs
by ryder77
Summary: Clovis spies on Lelouch when the latter makes an unusual request. Cornelia, what are you doing here! AU. One-shot.


Disclaimer: Code Geass and its characters belong to Sunrise

* * *

Clovis was _not_ spying on his baby brother.

He was, after all, in an apartment unit he owned, watching through a hole he had made on the wall for the purpose of observing whatever said brother was up to in the next room — which he owned as well. Actually, he owned the entire apartment complex, so technically he was doing (what was that word again? Ah-ha!) surveillance on his property.

Which would have been easier if he had simply installed a security camera in said next room. But then Lelouch would get suspicious — why watch for burglars in the Junk Room? And _that_ was what made Clovis suspicious. He _must_ know why Lelouch wanted to borrow the key to that room, or his name wasn't Clovis La Britannia!

Clovis La Britannia, shining star in the theater scene, was one of the many children sired by Charles "The Emperor" Britannia — former movie actor and very successful businessman — with the many women he associated with. Each of them he had accepted as his own, letting all of them carry the Britannia name. He also gave each of them middle names as a matter of convenience, specifically to help him keep track of who their mothers were(Schiezel El was Eleanor's, Odysseus Eu was Eunice's, Cornelia Li was Linda's, among others). In the case of his two youngest children, however, Marianne — their mother and the woman whom he finally chose to settle down with — had insisted on the middle name Vi, in memory of his own mother, Vivienne. She was, after all, his wife, so she merited an exception. That, or she recognized early on the teasing both her children would get should they acquire the second name "Ma".

Perhaps due to their father's popularity and connections, each of the Britannia children had every opportunity to hone his or her gift. At present Schneizel was already managing his own businesses, Clovis was thriving as a stage actor and artist, Cornelia was the black rose of the racing scene. Of course, as with most families, there were those who would shun the limelight. Odysseus — who eloped with his young girlfriend from China, never to be heard from again — was one of them.

In a tragic turn of events, Charles and Marianne died in a plane crash on their way to what the entertainment scene knew to be their second honeymoon. The days that followed had revealed that Charles was in financially dire straits, such that all his assets weren't nearly enough to pay off his debts. His youngest children, then barely setting foot on middle school, were left with nothing. The elder siblings were quick to pitch in, having accepted each other as true family, and managed to put a roof above Lelouch and Nunnally's heads and keep them in the private school they were attending.

At which point they noted a change in Lelouch; their persistent, curious baby brother they had a hard time getting away from had turned aloof and uninterested. They thought, perhaps it was due to their initial helplessness when their parents died, he wanted to be able to depend on his own devices when the time came. They willingly gave him the space they thought he needed, but they also made it known that they would always ready to step in the moment he sought their help.

Which was why Clovis was genuinely surprised when Lelouch showed up in his flat — to borrow the key to the Junk Room, of all things.

"The Junk Room," Clovis repeated, raising one eyebrow.

The Junk Room was the apartment unit where he kept gifts he received from his multitude of adoring fans. Not all gifts made their way to that room, however; just those that he didn't particularly consider valuable or pretty or 'him' enough to be caught dead with in his flat.

Yeah, junk.

Which was a lot, and a disorderly lot at that. He had kept them all to spare the givers the heartbreak of finding them in the trash or in somebody else's hands. Downside? The stuff piled up quicker than he could think of a way to get rid of them.

"You've been meaning to tidy it up," Lelouch stated, his expression neutral, his right hand extended as if expecting to receive the key immediately. "Right?"

"Yes," he replied, the single word lasting three seconds.

"I'll do it for you," Lelouch offered. "I don't have anything to do this weekend, anyway."

Clovis lowered his eyebrow and observed his brother carefully. What Lelouch just said was a most unusual pair of statements. His little brother was a neat freak, yes, but he also abhorred setting foot in the Junk Room — the mere sight of the sheer amount of "junk" in the room could make the most seasoned interior designer shudder. Lelouch also _never_ had nothing to do on a weekend, having taken on insane shifts of part-time jobs (among others) to build up his savings, so he wouldn't have to depend on them when it came to money. Clovis raised a different eyebrow this time, and — ah-hah! there it was, that tiny stiffening of the shoulders that would go unnoticed by someone not looking for it. This was not about killing time, nor was it about money, so it could only be...

"It's for a girl, isn't it?"

A sigh. "You got me. You know me too well. You love me. Now can I _please_ borrow the key?"

Damn, he thought, that was a 'yes' but his body language this time said 'no'. The little bit with the shoulder earlier might even have been a lure to make him mention girls! Schneizel was rubbing off on him.

He sighed inwardly. Those two really should consider showbiz careers. But then, if they did, his current fan base would be divided among the three of them. Nah, he thought; he basked in this kind of attention. The other two...never mind.

Though, thinking it over, why would Lelouch choose the Junk Room to show off with, if it _was_ a girl? Whatever the case,

"Fine," he complied as he removed a key from his key ring, "it's all yours. Do whatever you need to do. Your girl friend can help herself to anything in it, too; I don't care."

"Thanks," Lelouch replied when he caught the key after it was tossed his way. "Are you sure you won't be missing anything you put in that room?"

"Yes."

"And my friend can help herself to anything in it?"

"Brother dear," Clovis said, switching to his all-knowing brother persona, "a girl's smile is worth more than all the stuff in that room and then some.

"Now go on, get out of here," he continued, waving his hands dismissively. "You can introduce her to me later. Have fun. Mail me back the key when you're done."

That was two days ago. Whether or not Lelouch figured that he would actually be spying (doing surveillance!) on him, he wasn't sure. He just wanted to know what his little brother was up to.

"Why did we go for the hole in the wall, again?" So did Cornelia the Quick, who happened to see Lelouch leave Clovis' flat that day. "And why do we need to whisper? Aren't these apartments of yours all soundproofed?"

"I removed the soundproofing on this bit of wall so we can hear what Lelouch and his girlfriend are talking about, and," he turned a withering glare to his sister, "sound works both ways, last I checked. We don't want them to hear us, do we?"

"Will there even _be_ a girl," Cornelia answered back. "I mean, this is Lelouch we're talking about. I hear they even call him the Ice Prince at his school."

"And that's exactly why we're here, sister dear — to find out."

"I still think we should just ask him about it."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Cornelia always was one for the direct approach. "We all agreed to giving him a wide berth, didn't we?"

"This isn't exactly a 'wide berth' either."

"No," he agreed, "but what Lelouch doesn't know won't hurt him, will it?"

They went quiet as soon as they heard the key turn in the lock. Both held their breath as they watched two figures enter the room. The one who held the door open they quickly recognized as Lelouch, the second, to their surprise, was indeed a girl of about Lelouch's age.

After giving Cornelia a look of triumph, Clovis did his best to get a good look at their little brother's friend. It was part of his job as big brother, after all, to protect his little brother — even if it was just from gold-digging girls.

-.o.O.o.-

Lelouch wasn't entirely truthful when he told Clovis he would be tidying up the Junk Room. He wasn't entirely lying, either. What he had planned would partly solve the junk problem, though the possible results were either absolute success or utter failure; there was no middle ground.

He had hoped what means he had at hand were enough to bring about what he wanted — he didn't need more charity from his elder siblings — but he had already exhausted all his alternatives. The Junk Room was his last hope.

This was his last chance to get Kallen back.

He had prepared the room beforehand; had arranged its contents to follow a script he thought up — one that he hoped would get the results he wanted. It did nothing to help the make the windows more accessible, though. Whatever illumination the room had was filtered by the blinds, and good luck to who wanted walk to the windows to change that. The room was at its brightest in the afternoon, and the sunset — it would be the perfect time to set his plan into motion.

He watched Kallen carefully as they entered the Junk Room. The late afternoon sun brought the room to a tug-of-war between light and shadow that Clovis would probably call 'charming'. Immediately to their left and right were the main players of his upcoming performance. The ones behind those were important, too, if he had his way, especially that ornate sofa at the very back, just next to the window. Stark against the light of the window was a life-sized statue of a clown, casting an ominous shadow on everything else in the room; the star of his show.

Kallen had simply walked to the center of all these. She barely looked around, not really registering what was around them, what they might look like to anyone else. Lelouch narrowed his eyes. He had predicted it, of course, but he had also been half-expecting — wanting, even — to be wrong.

He wanted to _believe_.

He locked the door behind him then, not turning the lights on. He waited another moment before walking slowly toward her, letting every step he took echo in the room. He stopped only when he was close enough to feel her warmth, and he was sure she could feel his. Most girls their age would be alarmed by now, being locked in a slowly-darkening room alone with a boy, especially with said boy standing so close behind them. Kallen just turned around to face him. Not nervous. Not angry. Not curious. Not... anything.

"Where do we start, Lelouch?"

He felt a rush of anger, then. His mind momentarily numbed in disbelief. Didn't she have any idea how she just sounded? Was this all that she was now? Had it all been truly meaningless? After all the hard work, all that he had done—!

No, he thought, not just yet. He closed his eyes and took a breath to calm himself. He had one last card to play, one last chance. This was it, he thought. If he failed now, it would be all over. There would be no bringing her back. She would be truly lost to him. Perhaps she already was, for a long time now; since that day.

Now to find out once and for all.

"Right."

-.o.O.o.-

_What is he doing?_

That probably was both on Clovis and Cornelia's minds when their little brother walked to the broom closet, pulled out two baseball bats, and handed one to the girl.

Actually, the same phrase had been in their minds since they saw how the Junk Room was arranged — every piece that had a face looked toward the center of the room, where the girl was standing now. The question came up again when Lelouch locked the door and stalked up behind the girl like a predator. Had they been a little more patient, they wouldn't need to ask themselves the same thing again when Lelouch swung his bat and shattered the statuette closest to him.

"What are you...?" The girl asked for them.

Looking at his next target, Lelouch replied "Tidying up." The bat landed once more.

"We need to get rid of all of these," he explained further right before another crash, "and these won't fit the garbage bags as they are." Another swing hit its target.

"S-stop," said the girl, and Clovis wondered if he had imagined it — this was the first time she flinched, and was the first natural reaction she showed since she entered the room.

This made him take a closer look at her, and was surprised that he actually knew the girl. It was amazing, he thought, that she seemed like a completely different person earlier. He was now beginning to understand his brother's actions.

-.o.O.o.-

Lelouch studied her carefully from the corner of his eye. He was reaching her.

"Come on," Lelouch continued, "you're better at this than I am." He made a quick demonstration of it, too, when his bat landed with a clang on a relatively tough vase.

"Don't worry about any of this," _**CRASH!**_

"All this is junk," _**CRASH!**_

"Everything has to go," _**CRASH!**_

"Just," _**CRASH!**_ "Do it," _**CRASH!**_

"Kallen!"

-.o.O.o.-

Clovis put a hand on Cornelia's shoulder to signal to her that they should leave.

As they walked to his car, Clovis thought about the kind of young man his little brother was becoming. As a young boy, Lelouch was very much in tune with the needs of those around him, doing what little he could — secretly, whenever possible — to lift their spirits. He had thought that that boy had been lost after Charles and Marianne died. However, if that relieved sigh he let out when the girl started flattening the Junk Room was any indication, he was still very much there.

And this girl mattered.

"Are you just going to let them destroy all those?" asked Cornelia after they were far enough away from the Junk Room to speak. "Some of those are antiques!"

"It's called the Junk Room for a reason, Cornelia," he replied. "They're doing me a big favor."

"Besides," he continued, "I can see why Lelouch needed it."

"And that would be," Cornelia asked as she took her place in the passenger seat.

"She," Clovis answered as he closed the door to the driver's seat, "is the daughter of the president and CEO of the Stadtfeld Financial Group."

Cornelia blinked twice. "And?"

Clovis sighed. "You should really read beyond the sports pages, my dear Cornelia." He turned the ignition in the car before continuing, "Especially the society pages. They're right next to the sports pages, after all."

_He'll be keeping her close, that one,_ Clovis concluded. _Not quite there, but that can change._

-.o.O.o.-

She needed this. Oh, God, she needed _this_!

For the first time in so long she had never felt so... _free_.

It was frightening, at first. She was feeling a strange mix of emotions — anger, sadness, even happiness — all flowing out of her in a rush. At this very moment, she could completely agree with the floodgates metaphor, because that was exactly how it felt like. Since she heard the news of her brother's accident (how long ago was it, exactly?), it had been one shock after another. There was no time to let the last one sink in before the next one came; she had practically no time to react.

At first she thought to hold back until after they buried Naoto, not allowing herself to shed a tear. Then Tamaki — her brother's best friend — came over, confessed to his being stupid as the cause of the accident, then simply left to turn himself in. Barely a day later she overheard her parents talking about their divorce, one that they've finalized just when the accident happened.

She was suddenly all alone. What she felt didn't matter. _She_ didn't matter. The funeral came and went, and a part of her was buried with her brother.

She supposed she had been running on autopilot since; eating, drinking, sleeping, going to class, passing exams. A friend or two (it didn't really matter how many) tried to cheer her up and failed. Maybe she smiled at them, anyway, at least to thank them for their concern. She'd agree do a favor or two for some of them, too, just to show them she was okay, that she was moving on.

Except she wasn't really _there_.

For who knew how long she had been _trapped_, and she didn't know it. She had withdrawn so far within herself that she had forgotten how to go back out. She needed help but couldn't call out. Or perhaps she didn't want to. After a while everyone around her kept their distance, making her world a little more quiet than it had already become.

Then there was the _noise_!

_**CRASH!**_ That first one snapped her out of the haze she was in.

_**CRASH!**_ The next one made her aware that someone was speaking to _her_, who she once was.

_**CRASH!**_ She flinched. She could feel her heart racing, hear it pounding in her ears.

Then another. And another. And _another_! The noise just kept going until there was nothing else in her world. The voice came louder, too, calling her, challenging her, and, in a way, tempting her. She felt it, then. Whether it was being drawn out or it was fighting to free itself, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that if she didn't do something soon, she would be a mess all over again. She wanted to keep control. She wanted it to stop. She wanted—

Then she heard her name being called, and there was only one thing _to_ do.

She reacted. Finally.

Through screams and sweat and tears she rode the wave of emotions that flowed out from within her. She swung her bat against anything that would break, taking satisfaction in the simple partnership of cause and effect.

That was it, she thought, that had been wrong with her; she couldn't stop trying to wrap her mind around what happened to her family. The plain truth was that the reason didn't matter, nothing would be the same whether or not she did. Yet, stubborn as she was, she had set aside her feelings — something she was not an expert in. As a result she had locked herself in and didn't know how to get out.

But now she was out, fueled by all the emotions she had bottled up, and all this junk was in her way.

_Why did you have to die, Naoto?_

_Why did they get that divorce?_

_Why, why, WHY do you have to be such a big, dumb, stupid idiot, TAMAKI?!_

Statuettes of a young man, a pair of lovers, and the life-sized clown got special attention with these thoughts, and she could swear nothing felt better in her life. Surprisingly, with each swing she took she didn't feel tired at all. It actually felt like waking up, and her mind was clear for the first time since—

"Heads up!"

She swung her bat behind her just in time to hit the little urn thrown her way and shatter it to pieces. After listening to the shards fall to the floor, she was reminded that there was someone else in the room. Surprised and a little embarrassed, she was also glad she managed to avoid hitting him during her emotional rampage.

She winced when she felt her cheek sting, and was surprised to see blood when she touched it. _Probably from that last one_, she thought, and some of her tears had seeped in.

Suddenly Lelouch was there (when did he get so close?) and was wiping her face with a handkerchief in one hand, with a band-aid ready in the other. She simply stood there to let him finish what he was doing while wondering at his actions. He had always annoyed her when they were at school, only seeming to take her side when it was about going against one of Milly's silly proposals. She wouldn't call him 'mean', exactly; he was just, 'not nice', to her. Now here he was, applying the band-aid to the cut on her face after he figuratively broke her out of her own prison by literally breaking... stuff (what _were_ these before?).

He ran his thumb over the bandage and it made her look up at him in wonder, as if seeing him for the first time. She noticed that there was satisfaction in his eyes, though nothing at all like the satisfied look he had when she reacted to his teasing. If anything he seemed, glad.

She reached up to her cheek and found his hand still there. It was... comforting. Here was someone who understood what she needed, someone who knew her better than she knew herself. He was the one that didn't give up on her when everybody else had already walked away.

A tiny part of her wanted to ask what this was all about, why he was showing her this side of him, but right now she was just _thankful_.

She smiled. He smiled back. No words were needed.

"Well, then," Lelouch finally spoke, gently removing his hand. "Let's get back to work, shall we?"

"Right," she agreed. _Another time._

-.o.O.o.-

"I said you could just mail it back."

"You did," Lelouch agreed as he handed over the borrowed key to its owner. "But I wanted to thank you personally. It was, how do you say this, theraputic."

"My brother the neat freak," Clovis joked. "Did that friend of yours have a good time?"

"As a matter of fact, she was quite fascinated with that big clown. Thank whoever gave it to you for me, too."

"Glad to hear it, though I don't even remember having one. How did you manage, if you don't mind my asking?"

Lelouch shrugged. "I had help."

"Neat Freaks Anonymous, is it? And was your partner in this properly compensated?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Lelouch replied, smiling at the memory of the new charm attached to Kallen's mobile phone while at school. She had found that red and white feather made of some metal with a jewel attached while picking at the larger pieces of broken vase. Whether it was a part of a statue's prop or was inside one of the many vases and urns, they would never know. She couldn't stop admiring it, and Lelouch was rewarded with a bright smile when he said she could keep it.

"And," he added, "you were right."

Clovis raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"A girl's smile."

"And there is no treasure in this world like it." Clovis took his brother's hand and shook it with both of his own. "Congratulations, Lelouch! You are now one step closer to becoming a full-fledged ladies' man."

"Er, yeah. Whatever," Lelouch replied while carefully pulling his hand away. As he turned to leave he told his brother, "Anyway, thanks again."

"No. Thank _you_," Clovis countered, and quickly added as Lelouch closed the door, "And Cornelia sends her love!"

-.o.O.o.-

Clutching a bag of Nunnally's favorite doughnuts bought from the bakeshop near Clovis' flat, Lelouch took a window seat on the bus that would bring him home. Staring out at the passing scenery, he thought about the events of the past weekend. Rather, the events that led to what happened last weekend.

He had seen it early on, how Kallen had changed, maybe even describe the stages of it in detail. At first it had just been her trying to keep people from asking before she knew more herself. Then she was absent-minded and confused about, well, everything. Soon after she was hollow, and that was when he got concerned. He tried getting her to argue with him, but she agreed completely every time. He tried sending her on errands she usually refused, but she finished all of them perfectly. Even Rivalz' whoopee cushion trick didn't get her to at least color her cheeks.

This wasn't _her_.

_There's something wrong with Kallen_, he had declared to the Student Council, hoping to get some support. Their replies of _give her some space_, and _these things take time_ were all that he got.

What do they know, he thought almost angrily. He knew where she was because he had been there himself, and it was not a good place to be in, especially not for someone like her. He was used to hiding some things from people around him, but she was the type to always wear her heart on her sleeve. She wouldn't be able to handle it.

When his parents died and lost their home he had gone through the same things, but he had his elder siblings to pull him out of that dark place; all he needed to know was that he wasn't alone. After learning about Kallen's parents' divorce soon after her brother's accident, he knew that someone, -anyone- had to step in. He hadn't actually planned on taking on the job himself, but all of her friends had insisted on 'giving her space'. But he knew better; by the time they moved back into her life, it would be already too late.

And, apparently, he was just in time.

He felt a little guilty, actually, when he took advantage of Kallen's 'zombie mode' to get her to help him clean up the Junk Room. By his own assessment nothing short of destroying the room's contents would make it look remotely like an apartment, anymore; he had dreaded seeing its interior ever again. But. he sighed to himself, desperate times called for desperate measures. As far as the results went, it was mission accomplished.

His bus stopped at a red light just when Shirley exited a shop from across him. Coming up behind her was a smiling Kallen. Shirley waved enthusiastically at him when their eyes met. Kallen followed suit with a more subdued one. Lelouch gave them a small wave back. Kallen wasn't one hundred percent back to how she was, but that was to be expected; nobody came back unchanged from a tragedy. They exchanged a knowing look just as the bus moved again and the two girls resumed their window shopping. At least she wasn't in that dark place anymore, he thought.

He leaned back in his seat thought about the time they spent after they were done with the Junk Room. They had ordered takeout and had laughed when they ended up ordering two of everything. The conversations that followed revealed that they actually had much in common. By the time they were ready to go home, they had both agreed to a permanent ceasefire of hostilities.

He found himself thinking of her smile again. Since that day he had wondered how it had seemed different. Of course Nunnally would be beaming at him when he arrived home with her favorite doughnuts, but Kallen's had felt more...

He quickly pressed on the button beside his seat sending the bus' passengers tipping forward when the driver hit the brakes. He had nearly missed his stop. Apologizing to his fellow passengers he got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to the apartment where he and his sister lived.

_Daydreaming, Lelouch?_ he chided himself. _What has gotten into you?_

* * *

A/N: Yes, I still believe I am doomed to write one-shots.

I had to stop it there. Originally this was to end with Lelouch returning the key, but I needed to explain Lelouch's actions.

My first AU! and I had been debating for months (yes, months!) on how to write this. The top-down approach didn't lend much mystery and would make the backgrounder parts encyclopedic. I also have this dislike for flashback markers, and I hope I pulled off the then-and-now parts passably.

The "emperor" background was inspired by a local veteran comedy actor (+RIP) who, afaik, had a child with every actress he was paired with (except the one who he was paired with the longest, ironically).

The speech bits I admit were a little forced and rushed, especially the Clovis-Lelouch ones. I didn't want them to grow too long, just enough to get the hole-in-the-wall and the Junk Room things started with a little brotherly teasing included.

Oh, I wanted to write CC in, but have no idea where to put her, so you guys will just have to settle for Clovis and Cornelia :p

As always, I hope you enjoyed it, and reviews are very much appreciated.

_Date last edited: 2013/06/03, because I missed some italics, and I noticed I referred to Marianne as 'he' in one part._


End file.
